


The Last Five Years

by kaylaber1



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Break Up, Descent into Madness, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, This really isn't happy, Triggers, What Have I Done, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-17 18:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10599759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaylaber1/pseuds/kaylaber1
Summary: A work following the relationship between Harvey Dent and Bruce Wayne told in the style of the musical "The Last Five Years", where one party's timeline moves foreward and the other's in reverse.





	1. The End of the Line

Harvey tucked his legs up to his chin, trying to hide from his own thoughts. He listened closely to the creaking of the cot, focusing his energy on holding back tears. He'd always hated to cry. It made him feel weak. Helpless. Feeble. And the worst part was that it made a public announcement of it. With a shuddering breath, he succumbed to his pain, tears falling onto the pathetic excuse for a pillow. He'd lost everything. His job. His face. His mate. His daughter. Even his mind hadn't been spared. Although, that had been going for a long time. 

He felt so very alone. Well, not really. He was never alone. Dissassociative identity disorder, they called it. The gruff voice in his head that wasn't his and wouldn't leave him be. It grew bolder with every hit that Harvey took. Now it- he - was deafening. He knew that Harvey was weaker than he'd been since he started therapy, and saw the opportunity to take control. 

Harvey was usually very good at keeping him in line. After his diagnosis, he'd learned some very effective meditation techniques that had almost completely stopped the taunting, and the blackouts and the gaps in his memory. Whenever _he_ would speak up, Harvey would block him out by reminding himself of all he had. When that failed, Harvey would crochet. Now, Harvey had nothing. He wasn't even allowed his crochet hook. 

_You're pathetic._

"Leave me alone." Harvey countered aloud. He was already locked up in a mental facility, there was no sense in hiding it. 

_You know I'm right. That's why he left you, you know. That's why we're in here._

"What do you want?" Harvey sighed 

_Vengence. Justice. The same things you do, Harvey._

"That's a lie. Leave me alone."

Harvey curled up tighter on the cot, willing him away. It worked as well as usual. 

_Harvey, Harvey, Harvey._ the voice tutted. _If I'm lying, then why are you so bothered?_

__

__

"...Even if I want those things, I'd never actually do it. I have a sense of morality. I'm the district attorney, for God's sake!"

_Wrong. You were the district attorney. I know that you wouldn't do anything. You're the biggest pussy I've ever met. That's where I come in. _

"You can keep talking, but I'm not listening to you."

_Right. Let me take over. I'll enact our vengeance, wreak a little havoc, have a bit of fun, and you get to sit back and brood._

"Absolutely not."

_Why? Tell me, Harv, what more have you got to lose?_

There was a rare moment of genuine silence as Harvey thought on the words. What _did_ he have left to lose?

".....okay." he whispered "Okay, but we do it together, and we do it on my terms."

_Oh? And what terms are those?_

Harvey took a deep breath, and pulled a coin from his front pocket. He had stashed it away before they'd taken his clothes. His hands shook as he prepared to make a deal with the devil. 

"We're fair about it. Completely. Henceforth, everything will be decided through this."

_Heh. Alright. It's a deal._

"Now will you leave me alone?"

_Not quite, Harv. You see, I'd like to blow this pop stand. And you? Well your 'goody two shoes' attitude is messing with my plans. I can't believe that you actually think that these quacks can help you._

"These 'quacks' are the nation's leading psychaitrists."

_You can't be cured. You can't get rid of me, and we both know it. They'll just lock us in and leave us to rot._

"Alright, fine. We'll flip for it. Heads- we stay here and get help. Tails- we bust out."

The coin lands on tails. That same night, they leave Arkham to wander Gotham's streets once more. The city's greatest defender rendered it latest foe. Harvey reckons that underneath all of this, there might be some sort of lesson, or takeaway, or poetic meaning, but admittedly, philosophy was never his strong suit.

Flipping the coin and humming a tune as they walked down the boulevard, they made the familiar walk to Harvey's favorite tailor. If they were to play the role of Gotham's judge, jury, and executioner, they'd need a new suit.


	2. You, Breaking the Circle

Bruce had been schooled by a selection of private tutors from the tender age of 4 until his sophomore year of high school. Alfred, his butler and guardian, had agreed with his therapist on the issue of his social life, or lack thereof. So, it was decided that Bruce Wayne would finish out his primary education at the local public high school, much to his chagrin. 

Bruce hadn't been exceedingly popular in high school, as most of his peers assumed he was a stuck up ass, but public high school hadn't been the worst experience for one reason and one alone: Harvey Dent. Bruce had been seated next to the charismatic omega in his U.S. Government class, and the two had been inseparable since. Over the next few years, study dates turned into actual dates, and the rest, as they say, was history.

Their high school days behind them, Bruce now sat staring into a mostly packed suitcase, preparing to head back to Gotham for Christmas break. He did one last pass through the room to make sure he'd gotten everything. 

"Bruce, are you ready to go?" Harvey asked, opening the door.

"Yeah, I think so." Bruce responded, continuing his search for potentially forgotten items. 

"You think so? Bruce, did you wait until today to start packing?" Harvey put his hands on his hips, glaring down at his roommate.

"After all this time, do you expect anything less?" Bruce shrugged 

Harvey rolled his eyes. "Well, hurry it up, or we're going to be late."

Bruce moved closer to him, placing a hand on his hip. "Alfred's used to me being late." He said, leaning in to kiss Harv, who pulled away at the last minute.

"Used to it or not, it's still impolite."

"I'm almost done. Just making sure that I didn't leave anything."

"Did you make a checklist?"

Bruce glared up at him. "Not everyone is as organized as you, Harvey."

"Well of course not! If you were even half as organized as me, you would have declared a major and already been halfway through your degree plan." Harvey teased, watching Bruce puff up defensively. 

"Hey! I don't even need a degree. I already have a career. I'm the CEO of Wayne enterprises, I'm set for life!"

"Right. A position which is contingent upon you graduating from a 4 year university with a degree."

"Alright, Double major. Stop gloating and let me pack."

"Want any help?"

"No thanks." Bruce replied, but Harvey had already pushed past him and begun re-folding his clothing. 

"Bruce, you forgot your toothbrush." Harvey said flatly, rolling up a pair of breifs.

"What would I do without you?" Bruce asked, kissing Harvey on the cheek 

"Well, obviously leave your toothbrush!" Harvey called after him, placing a hand on his cheek where Bruce's lips had been only a moment before.

Bruce emerged from the bathroom, holding up his toothbrush triumphantly. He plopped it onto the neatly folded stack of clothing in the suitcase, earning him a pointed glare from his boyfriend

"You're packed. Can we go now?" Harvey asked, zipping up the suitcase.

"You're so eager to leave! I thought you liked it here, nerd." Bruce teased. 

"Oh I like it here. But I've been promised a week of Alfred's cooking, so forgive me if I'm in a bit of a rush." Harvey smiled. He pulled Bruce into a kiss, wrapping his arms around his waist. Bruce returned it passionately, pushing Harv onto the matress and moving to straddle his hips.

"In too much of a rush for a quickie?" Bruce whispered in Harv's ear, sending shivers down the omega's spine.

"...tempting, but no thanks. I'd rather hold off until we're on the bearskin rug at Wayne Manor, a fire roaring in the fireplace, and a nice mug of hot coca." Harvey said, pushing Bruce off of him. 

"Why not both?" Bruce grinned from the mattress. 

Harvey grabbed Bruce's suitcase and headed for the door. "Because we're going to be late." 

Bruce knew that once Harv was set on something, there was no talking him out of it, so he followed like a lost puppy, motivated by the mental image of that bearskin rug. 


	3. Stand There Straight and Tall

The ride from the hospital to Wayne Manor was filled with a silence that settled on its occupants like a thick dust. Harvey simply didn't have it in him to speak. He didn't want to hear any more words of pity and he certainly didn't want to hear about what Bruce had been so busy with in his absence. He planned on locking himself in the study and diving back into his cases without a word. 

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked, his baby blue eyes sparkling with worry as he took Harvey's hand in his own. There was once a time when that would have melted Harvey's heart, but now, he jerked his hand back. 

"You might know if you had visited me even _once_ in the hospital." Harvey said coldly, shifting to stare out the window. "If you're really interested, pick up a copy of the Gotham Globe, I gave Ms. Vale quite the interview."

"Alright, I deserved that." Bruce sighed. "But are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"I needed my _mate_." Harvey's voice dropped into a growl. 

"I'm here now." Bruce reassured, reaching out for Harvey, but the omega pressed his body against the car door.

"Are you? I can't even tell anymore."

"Harvey, I'm sorry."

"Good. At least you still have a heart somewhere. I was beginning to wonder."

"Look, Harvey, I know that I should have visited you.I know that I've been distant. But I'm still here for you."

"No! You're not!" Harvey shouted. "You didn't visit me in the hospital, you spend hours in our basement doing god knows what, you leave in the middle of the night and don't come home until dawn, and I'm always alone!"

Nothing else was said. They arrived at the Manor, and Harvey immediately locked himself in a bathroom in the west wing. He reached into the medical cabinet and pulled out a roll of bandages. He hadn't yet seen his face, but he figured it was time to face the music. Slowly, he unwrapped the bandages.

He let out an anguished cry upon the sight. The injury had already begun to scar over, nasty, shiny pink lines where the burning liquid had splashed and ran down his face. His lip had been burned through, along with parts of his cheek and several other places where the tissue was not as deep. His teeth showed through the gaps, pearly white, but made grotesque through the tattered flesh. He was at least grateful that his eyelid had remained intact, although his quality of vision had lessened significantly. He was disgusted with his scarred visage. As quickly as he could, he re-bandaged his face. 

Shaken and seeking comfort, Harvey staggered out of the bathroom and down the hall. The once homey Manor seemed cold and colassal.

"Bruce?" He called out, footsteps echoing against the marble. 

"Master Dent. I'm afraid Master Bruce is away for the evening." Alfred answered from behind him. Harvey whipped around to face him.

"Of course" He said hollowly. Almost trance like, he made his way to the living room. "Of course he is!"

Alfred tailed him worriedly. He'd be watching Harvey fall apart over the past few months as Bruce hid in his work. He was ever concerned that this would be the last straw for the District Attorney. 

In the living room, the fire burned brightly. Natural lighting bouncing off of antiques and family heirlooms and so many irreplaceable things. Harvey picked a solid gold candlestick from a nearby table, admiring its weight. 

_Do it. He deserves it._

A separate, yet familiar voice egged him on. For once, Harvey consciously obeyed. Taking the candlestick, he reduced a china vase to shards on the floor, the large, fake flowers making a soft rustling as they hit the ground. 

"Of COURSE he's out!" Harvey grunted, sweeping picture frames off of the mantel with a satisfying crash. "And just where is 'out'?! In the arms of another omega?! In a drug den, getting stoned out of his mind?! Gambling away his fortune while a hussy dressed in sequins bounces on his knee?!" It only took one hit to shatter the clock that had been ticking on the mantel since 1920. "Well wherever- whatever 'out' is, it isn't here, comforting his goddamn mate after all the shit he's had to go through!" Harvey shouted, overturning Bruce's favorite chair. Panting, his eyes settled on the bearskin rug- a hunting trophy of Thomas Wayne's- where so many intimate moments had taken place.

With a fixed glare, he threw the thing onto the flame. Sinking to his knees, he watched transfixed as it burned. He was brought out of his trance by a hand on his shoulder.

"Master Dent, would you like a mug of hot cocoa?" Alfred asked 

"Yes please. Thank you Alfred." Harvey answered, his voice weak. With a sinking feeling, he realized that it was all over.


End file.
